Subject 78926
by constellationgazer
Summary: I was subject 78926 in Azkaban prison. I am now Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Throughout the 2 months, I have helped 16 war veterans overcome their nightmares. Now, I face my toughest patient yet. Patient number 17, also known as former Gryffindor princess Hermione Granger.
1. A New Case

**I was subject 78926 in Azkaban prison. I am now Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Throughout the 2 months, I have helped 16 war veterans overcome their nightmares. Now, I face my toughest patient yet. Patient number 17, also known as former Gryffindor princess Hermione Granger. **

**Chapter 1: A New Case**

_Draco Malfoy_

My name is Nile White. I used to be Draco Malfoy, pureblood stuck-up and bully to one Hermione Granger. I am different now. My parents are different too. They spend every waking moment together, cuddling, just doting on each other. I know they are making up for all the time that they have lost. We are a family, and like every other muggle family, we spend our weekends together, laughing and drinking tea. We have gone through so much together, the war, our admittance and departure from Azkaban prison.

In a way, my mother saved us all. She saved Potter's life, and for that we were slightly pardoned. We spent two months in Azkaban in adjoining cells, and during our term, we were most obedient and docile. Our term was supposed to last for 5 months, but under good behavior, we were let out early. My parents and I spent the remainder of the 3 months under Ministry supervision. We were not allowed out of our house, so we spent the rest of our time redecorating our home. The Manor looks splendid now. We've repainted everything and thrown away anything that might contain even a trace of bad memories. We've replaced new furniture and even planted flowers and started our little garden. My mother has worked so hard on it now that there are bees and hummingbirds visiting everyday, collecting nectar and helping to fertilize the plants. They work hard, and so do I.

I straighten my robes and replace the piece of hair that has fallen out of place. I look at the ornate mirror in front of me and tell myself, _I am Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am Nile White, and I am a good person. _This was what the psychiatrist had told me to tell myself every morning, and I say it even now, 3 months after my last visit there. It helps me forget about all my sins, and I am able to go to work and help people, without feeling guilty that I have caused them pain in the past. I love my job. I love the feeling to be able to help get someone out of their shell, to help them move forward. I may be a healer, helping fellow witches and wizards get over their nightmares, but I still have them. Granted, many of them have gone away, but I am haunted by the repetitive dream of Hermione Granger getting tortured in front of my eyes and me not being able to help her. This is my nightmare.

I kissed my parents goodbye, and apparated out of the mansion. I never would have thought that the subject of my nightmare would become one of my patients.

_Hermione Granger_

My name is Hermione Granger, and I have issues. I enjoy a simple life, living in a little house on the outskirts of London. I live alone with my cat and I spend my days cuddled in front of the fireplace with a good book. I, Hermione Granger, at the age of 19, am jobless. I've received letters from the Ministry, and from just about every single wizarding company out there, offering me a job in their firm. I have turned down every single one of them.

I am afraid to go to sleep at night now, and my pallor is pale. I do not want to experience the recurring nightmares every time I shut my eyes, all the terror and pain in those dreams. I try to stay awake for as long as I can, but eventually I still get swept away into blood, pain, and fear. Harry and Ron come to visit me often, and occasionally they bring with them a vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught, something that I desperately need. I used it regularly at first, the first 2 months after the war, but now the effect seemed to have been dampened whenever I use it. Harry and Ron don't bring it to me often, because they are afraid I might become addicted. I don't understand why I am the one plagued by the most nightmares, and none of the therapists that I have been to have been able to chase away my recurring nightmares. My best friends keep trying to set me up with a new healer, or push me into a job, but both have never lasted over a week.

I have nightmares every night, and almost every one is more gruesome than the last. I dream about gargoyles coming to life and biting off chunks of my leg, dragging me down the halls of Hogwarts. I dream of my friends dying and me being unable to do anything. I dream of Voldemort staring at me with his beady eyes and cackling menacingly. I am unable to do anything to stop these dreams. Just last night, I had the worst dream yet.

_I was running along the corridors, casting furious jinxes and hexes behind her without looking. Something was getting closer, its footsteps spurring me to move my legs faster. I could hear it's pants, and it's shadow loomed in front of me. The shadow was getting bigger as I turned around the corner. Something dropped in front of the corner and I screamed. I stopped short and stared in front of me. Ron Weasley's dead body stared back at me. I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks. I hardly felt it as the monster finally reached me and ripped me limb to limb, the blood splattering on the floor and onto Ron's pale body. _

I had awoken with a start and immediately ran to the toilet to empty the contents of my stomach. The fact that Ron and I had broken up just a month ago did not help my nausea. I took a deep breath as I sipped my hot cocoa slowly. Crookshanks purred from beside me and I patted her. She crooned and curled up next to me with a contented sigh, drifting off into a cat nap. I was jealous of her ability to sleep without disturbance. I missed being able to do that. I stared at the clock hanging above my mantel. Four minutes…three…two…one…ding dong. Right on time.

I got up and walked over to the door, peeking through the peephole before opening the door to my best friends. They each gave me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. Harry held a vial of the draught that I craved, and I became suspicious. He usually didn't bring one for me until 2 weeks had past since the last one, but he had just given me one a week ago. I may be suffering from a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder, but I was proud to say that I was still relatively clear-headed.

"Alright Harry, what do you want?"

Harry looked at me and put on his sheepish look.

"Guess I could never outwit you huh, 'Mione?"

"No, you can't," I admitted, smiling slightly.

Harry and Ron led me over to my couch, and I sank into it, letting my sore back muscles rest against the comfortable fabric. Ron left and I could hear him bustling about the kitchen. A rich aroma of coffee filled the room a while later, and I knew this would not be good. Ron never fixed me anything unless he wanted to ask something of me. He came back a while later and handed the cup to me. I nodded thankfully at him and sipped at the hot coffee.

"Alright, out with it you two," I said.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Well, 'Mione, you see, Ron and I were…uh…sort of thinking that you should go see a healer."

I rolled my eyes.

"Not again, Harry. We have gone over this about 16 times. I will not go see another healer who will sap up my money and leave me feeling no better than I did before I went to see him or her."

Harry shook his head vehemently.

"I think you're mistaken Hermione. This one is different. His name is Nile White, and he's one of the top healers in St. Mungo's. He helped Angelina, Dean, Percy and even Ginny get over their nightmares. He's special."

My ears perked up.

"Ginny? He managed to help Ginny?"

I knew Ginny was a bad case. Her nightmares might not be as bad as mine, but she was also suffering like me, and to be able to cure her was a pretty great feat in itself.

"Yes he did," Ron spoke.

Harry turned his pleading eyes onto me.

"Please 'Mione, please give it a try. Please try for Ron and I."

I contemplated in my head. I could either turn down their offer and go back to screaming my head off every night, or I could give it a try and maybe have my life altered. I chose the latter.

"Alright, but only because he could help Ginny and I am tired of you boys bugging me all the time. Now give it here," she said, reaching for the Dreamless Sleep Draught.

"Excellent. Your first appointment with Healer White is tomorrow on the 2nd floor of St. Mungo's at 11am sharp," he said, handing me a card.

I glared at Harry.

"You knew didn't you? You knew I wouldn't be able to resist your offer once you brought me the draught and said that Ginny recovered after going to this healer. You knew so you went ahead and made all the arrangements for me. For you information Mr Potter, I am not a child. I can do things on my own."

Harry had the decency to blush.

"I know 'Mione, but you're my best friend, and I really want to help you get better. You forgive me right?"

I nodded and smiled. How could I not forgive my best friend? After all, everything he's done has been for my own good.

"It's getting late. Ron and I should go. Have a good night Hermione."

I felt slightly sad that they had to leave, but I put on the best smile I had and kissed them on the cheek. With a smile and a pop, they both apparated away, and I was left alone again. I sat on the couch, looking over the business card that Harry had given me.

_Maybe this healer wouldn't be so bad after all. He does have the muggle tendency to print out a business card, _she thought, chuckling to herself.

Still smiling slightly, she went to her bed and placed the card on her bedside table. A sleepy Crookshanks crawled in beside her and snuggled underneath the blankets. She ruffled her fur for a moment before sliding into the duvet covers and uncorking the vial with a swift stroke and downing it's contents. She had barely put the empty vial onto her bedside table before she fell asleep. For the first time in a week, she slept soundly.


	2. We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

**Wow! I think this is my most successful story yet! Thank you for all the positive reviews and whoo…17 follows and 5 favourites and 6 reviews in the first day! **

**Special thanks to GottaGetBackUp, Faliine, Scarlet-Rose333, SaizyMilla, Krystal Kitsune Uchiha, Loquacious Star for the most encouraging reviews!**

**Oh and I forgot this last chapter, so anyway…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They all belong to J.K Rowling, the most creative woman alive. **

**Here's the next chappie guys! Enjoy and please R&R!**

**Chapter 2: We Meet Again**

_Draco Malfoy_

I walked back into the manor slowly after a long jog. I needed it to clear my head. There was so much that went on today. I don't know if I would be able to handle it.

**Flashback:**

**I walked into my office with a smile on my face. My receptionist smiled flirtatiously at me and battered her eyelashes. I was severely disgusted, but I had no right to fire her now without any apparent reason. I needed an excuse, and fast. She was too busy flirting with me. Granted, she did arrange my appointments, but they were full of mistakes and I had to go through them again to make sure she had not scheduled me with two different people at the same time. **

**I was just looking through my files on the previous patient that I had just successfully treated. Ginny Weasley, or Ginny Potter to be exact. I flipped through all the notes that I had previously taken on her condition, right up to the last meeting I had with her. It might sound ironic, but I had a way with getting people to open up. Pretty ironic since I was the one being so closed off and not allowing anyone to get near me before. I sighed as I closed her file and taking out a black permanent marker, labeled "CASE CLOSED" on the front of her file. It went beside the other files of successful treatments. **

**I stepped back and looked proudly at the number of files that were on the top shelf. These were all the files of the patients who had come to receive treatment from me and successfully recovered. With a satisfied sigh, I sat down heavily onto my chair and started scanning my agenda for the day. Checking carefully to make sure Eva, my receptionist, had not made any mistakes this time, I closed the file with a heavy snap and opened another one. Today was all paperwork. Taking a sip of coffee, I picked up a quill and started signing through many parchments. I also answered letters from my previous patients. I made it a habit to check up on them at least once a week after they had stopped receiving treatment from me just to make sure they were fully recovered. They also kept me updated about their sleep patterns. **

**I was just replying to another letter from Dean Thomas when the noise of heels came closer and a knock sounded at my door. **

"**Who is it?"**

"**It's me Mr White," Eva said, attempting to be seductive, "there is a Mr Potter who demands to see you. I told him that you weren't accepting visitors today, but he insisted. Should I let him in? I would hate to allow him entrance without asking for your permission first, sir."**

**I rolled my eyes. She was such a suck-up. I've told her time and again that I wasn't interested, yet she kept trying to impress me. It was definitely not working. In fact, I was simply getting more repulsed at her behavior. **

"**Send him in."**

**The door opened a second later and a very nervous Harry Potter stood at the door. I waved Eva away and she walked away after winking at me. I shuddered. **

**I stood up.**

"**Ah, Mr Potter. It is a pleasure to meet you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?"**

**I wasn't trying to be nice to him. I didn't hold any grudges against him, though there was always this faint disgust and jealousy that I felt whenever I saw him. Maybe it was because everything was fine and dandy in his life. He had a wife, a family. **

"**Mr. White, nice to finally see you. My wife has told me lots about you. She was quite charmed by you, and I can see why. You have impeccable manners. Anyway, I can't tell you how grateful I am to you for helping my wife."**

**I nearly choked on my saliva upon hearing what he was saying. A Potter, complimenting a Malfoy? The world must have flipped into an alternate dimension.**

"**It was my pleasure. How can I help you today, Mr Potter? Is there something wrong with Mrs Potter? Has she relapsed? Is she alright?"**

**Harry chuckled.**

"**She's quite alright Mr White, thank you for your concern. I am here because one of my friends has been suffering from repetitive nightmares, and I was wondering if you would be able to help her."**

"**Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Mr Potter. Tell me who she is and I'll set up an appointment for her right away."**

**I opened my agenda, my quill poised to write.**

"**Her name is Hermione Granger."**

**My quill fell out of my hand and it splashed ink all over my papers. I swallowed heavily.**

"**Miss Hermione Granger? The Golden Girl? The brains behind the Golden Trio and the brightest witch that ever lived?"**

**Harry nodded.**

**I suddenly felt nauseous and I was having second thoughts. I wanted to smack myself on the head for even suggesting that I would be able to help his friend. I wasn't particularly comfortable with helping Granger just yet. I was still…how do I put this…rather afraid of her ever since the incident at the Manor. Let's just say I haven't gotten over my guilt.**

"**Well…I…uh…I'm afraid I'm rather fully booked this few months Mr Potter. If you don't mind, maybe you could ask Miss Granger to come back in a few months when I am perhaps, more free?"**

**Harry's eyes hardened and I gulped slightly. I would never admit it out loud, but Harry Potter scared me, especially when he was extremely angry.**

"**Don't feed me this crap Malfoy," he hissed, "I know you're free. I had your lovely receptionist check out your schedule for me. You will help Hermione, or merlin forgive me, I will tell Kingsley."**

**My eyes were wide and my jaw agape. He knew. He knew who I was. It shouldn't have come as such a big surprise anyway. There was a rule when I started becoming a healer. Shacklebolt told me that I would have to tell my patients my true identity before the end of their treatment, whenever I felt was the best time. I started off telling my patients at the very end of their recovery sessions with me, but for Ginny, I told her somewhere in the start, when it seemed clear that she wasn't going to open up to me. After that, she ranted and raved for 2 whole sessions, but then she started spilling everything and I coaxed her out of her depression, which seemed to be the cause of her nightmares. Of course she told fucking Potter. **

**I had no other choice out of this. My jaw hardened.**

"**Fine. But you owe me, Potter."**

**Harry's eyes softened visibly.**

"**Thank you Malfoy, and for goodness sake, please try to help Hermione. I know the two of you don't get along well, but both of you have been through so much, and Hermione's really on the verge of hysteria. Please help her Malfoy, I'm begging you. Bring my best friend back."**

**I actually got a little teary-eyed. Granger sounded much worse than I had been expecting. If this didn't strengthen my resolve to help her, nothing would.**

"**Alright. Send her down tomorrow at 11am. I promise you Potter, I'll do the best I can."**

"**Thank you Draco."**

**Harry held out his hand and I shook it tentatively. He offered a smile before leaving the office. The only thought that ran through my head as I wrote down Granger's name on my schedule was what the fucking hell I had just got myself into.**

**End Flashback**

I headed back into the manor and sat down at the dining table. I nodded at Flopsy as the elf handed me my dinner. It was grilled salmon, my favorite. I smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you Flopsy. You know just when to cheer me up."

Flopsy stared at me with his knowing eyes and just snapped his fingers as he vanished. I sank my teeth into the succulent meat of the salmon and sat there in silence. Afterwards, I left the empty dishes on the table and headed upstairs to my room.

I looked into the mirror right before I went to bed and told myself, "I am Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am Nile White, and tomorrow I will help Hermione Granger."

_Hermione Granger_

_I writhed on the floor. Someone was holding a Cruciatus on me, and every fibre in my body was burning. I could hear screams in the background. I tried to focus on something other than the pain. I diverted my gaze upwards and focused on the chandelier. It was blurring in and out of focus now and somehow it seemed to be swaying. There was a muffled crash in the background and some creaks. Screams broke out and the curse on her ended, causing her to gasp out in relief and pain. The chandelier seemed to be getting closer now, and it hit me that the ornament had been unhinged. I wanted to move, so badly too, but the pain in my arm, my ribs was burning and I was unable to move. The chanderlier came closer to me somewhat in slow motion, and I was forced to watch as the first glass shard touched my skin. I turned my head to my side, not wanting to watch the chandelier piercing my flesh, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was a pair of silver-grey eyes staring back at me. _

I jerked awake with a gasp. I looked at the clock. It was now 10am, and the draught had presumably lost its effect an hour ago. It only lasted for 12 hours, and I had already slept more than that. Shaking my head to get rid of the horrible nightmare, I cursed myself for forgetting to set the alarm. I threw open the covers and slid down the bed, slipping my feet into my warm fuzzy slippers. Crookshanks hissed when the covers enveloped her fully, but I paid her no mind as I dragged myself to the bathroom.

I looked healthier, with the eyebags slightly less noticeable. The color had slightly returned to my cheeks, but I still looked like a walking zombie. My hair was a mess and though it had evolved to become silky wavy hair, it still looked like a rat's nest in the morning. I furiously combed my fingers through the messy locks, hoping to appear presentable for the first time in a week. Satisfied with my appearance, I went back into my room and picked up the business card. My appointment with Mr White was in just a little less than an hour. I frantically fixed myself a sandwich and grabbed a bite before running around my little apartment throwing things that I would need into my little beaded bag. Lipstick, galleons, mirror, a book, were just some of the things I haphazardly threw in there.

I picked up my wand and headed out of my door. Out of habit, I threw up an array of protective enchantments and spells around my flat. Satisfied that it'll take even the most proficient magician 10 minutes to undo all these charms, I apparated directly from my doorstep after making sure that I wasn't in view of any of the security cameras.

I landed on my two feet in an alley a little aways from the St. Mungo's entrance. With a somewhat nervous grasp on my handbag, I walked forwards to the dummy at the entrance of what seemed like an abandoned department store and almost immediately afterwards, I walked straight through the glass and appeared in the reception area of St. Mungo's. I could not deny my nerves now. I was drumming my fingers rapidly against my bag, impatiently waiting for the lift to arrive. I arrived on the 2nd floor with 10 minutes to spare before my first session.

Impatiently settling onto one of the chairs, I picked up a magazine and started flipping through the pages. The receptionist smiled at me before picking up the phone and chatting animatedly. I didn't listen in to her conversation. It would be rude to eavesdrop. The pretty blonde receptionist put down the phone after a while and smiled at me again, but it wasn't quite the kind of pleasant smile. I forced myself to give a small smile before turning my attention back to the magazine. It no longer held my interest. I was a little anxious for my therapy session. The previous ones had not gone well, with me getting random panic attacks in the middle of the room or remembering something from the past that had me heaving in the session. Needless to say, I had either stopped going for the sessions, or the therapist had given up.

I looked at my watch again. 5 minutes left. Time was going past agonizingly slow. It was almost as if it was taunting me. I counted the strokes of the minute hand of the clock going past but was interrupted by a ding, signifying the arrival of an elevator. My curiosity piqued, I watched as the elevator doors opened, as if in slow motion, and suddenly a sea of people emerged from it, all of them carrying magical cameras. They were my worst nightmare. Reporters.

I glanced at the receptionist, pleading for her to chase them off, but she was smirking at me as one of the reporters went up to her and gave her a small sack of galleons. It hit me that the receptionist had informed them about my presence, and she didn't seem the least bit remorseful when she saw me. Great. This was just what I needed. They swarmed around me, and bright flashes danced before my eyes as they relentlessly snapped pictures of me. I put the magazine up in an attempt to shield my drained face.

"Miss Granger, why have you not accepted any jobs?"

"Miss Granger, are you still single?"

"Miss Granger, how do you feel about Mr Weasley breaking up with you?"

"Miss Granger, why are you here to see Mr White? Are you not well?"

"Miss Granger, please comment on your recent absence from the Wizarding world."

The questions were streaming around in my mind and I suddenly felt sick. Very sick. Mental images of Ron's dead body, Lavender's mangled face flashed across my mind. The magazine fell to the floor. I held up my hand weakly.

"Please stop. Go away. Stop," I croaked out.

The onslaught of questions did not cease and it somehow became even more ear-piercing to me. I placed my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sound. My mind was racing, and my heart was thudding in my chest. I felt like I was going to puke. This was too much. I was prepared to run out of there and just forget all about my appointment.

"SHUT UP!"

The questions from the reporters stopped.

I opened my eyes to see a very furious man standing in between the reporters and I.

"Can't you see she doesn't want to be interviewed now? I don't know how you have the audacity to pepper her with questions when she's obviously unwell. Now get out of my sight!"

The reporters hastily scrambled away, but some of them gave the man glares and I could hear a few swear words aimed directly at him.

"Oh and Nicole," he said in a false sweet tone, "you're fired. Get out. Now."

I couldn't help but smirk at the receptionist, whose mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. The man was evidently glaring at her, and she shrank back from his intense stare. Mumbling apologies, she gathered her handbag and left the area with a huff, but not without an exaggerated swing of her hips. I was disgusted. The man turned to face me directly now and smiled.

"My apologies for that Miss Granger. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, it is very nice to meet you. I am Nile White, but just Nile will be fine. I will be your healer for as long as you want me to be."

He was tall, not overly so, but the kind of tall that was just right for a man. I was surprised to see that he was really young, but evidently he had a knack for healing. I would've thought that a man with a lot more experience would have been able to heal Ginny, but standing right in front of me now was a man who looked no more than 22. In fact, he looked as if he was the same age as Harry. He had platinum blonde hair, and his skin was pale. I fought the urge to run my hands through his tousled hair. I looked at his eyes and gasped. His eyes. They were the ones that haunted me in my dreams.


	3. Consultation

**Author's Note:**

**Wow thank you so much for all your support guys! You have no idea how much this means to me**** Thank you for the reviews Krystal Kitsune Uchiha, LoquaciousStar, GottaGetBackUp, SaizyMilla, Pizzapig, aikkumaikku and Scarlet-Rose333.**

**I want to clarify something, since a few of my reviewers brought it up. So the question was does Draco look the same, and why doesn't anyone recognize Draco. Basically, Draco sounds like he looks the same because even though he's wearing a glamour charm every time he goes to work, his identifiable characteristics are still the same. Blonde hair, grey eyes and pale skin. But there are certain features that make him look unrecognizable. Also, before the end of the war Draco was overly pale and stressed out, therefore he was extremely skinny. Now however, he's healthier and he's grown up. Plus, he uses muggle stuff like business cards and pens. No one would have thought Draco Malfoy would do something like that, now would they? **

**So I hoped this clarified all your doubts. **

**This is usually how often I'll update a chapter. I'm busy with my schoolwork too and stuff, so I'm trying to squeeze time in to write my story. I don't really want it to be rushed though, since I believe every chapter should be done to the best of my ability. **

**Thanks for all the reviews again and here's the new chapter. Please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any HP characters. **

**Chapter 3: Consultation**

_Hermione Granger_

The man that stood before me was familiar, very familiar indeed. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would've thought that this man was related to a certain platinum blonde in Hogwarts. There were distinct differences though. For one, Draco Malfoy would never have been caught alive using muggle methods in his job. Secondly, there was something about Healer White that was soothing; he radiated an aura of calmness. He had those eyes though, the grey eyes that always made me wake up in cold sweat. I could've sworn that the man in front of me was Draco Malfoy, but the different characteristics were just too…un-Malfoy-like. When would Malfoy ever dismiss a pretty secretary with the most perfect body, even if she was an airhead? Plus, Malfoy would never agree to heal any "bloody Gryffindors", as he had so eloquently put before.

Finished with my evaluations, I took a step back from the close proximity between us and held out my hand.

"Thank you," I whispered, "It's nice to meet you Healer White. I am Hermione Granger, but you can call me Hermione."

The man's eyes locked onto mine and held my gaze, as if he was searching my soul, and I suppressed a shiver.

"Ah the famous Miss Granger, I've heard a lot about you. Firstly, I would like to thank you for all the contributions you've made in the War, and I am truly honoured to finally meet you. As you already know, I am Nile White, but you can call me Nile."

I smiled slightly. This man had something familiar about him, about the way he spoke. The first few words he spoke reminded me of Severus Snape, the brave Potions Master that I had known for a long time.

Then an image of my professor lying on the floor in a pool of blood surrounded by a hissing Nagini surfaced in my mind, and I blanched. I wanted to puke immediately, and I must have looked extremely pale, because Healer White quickly escorted me by the arm into his office and into the washroom adjoining to the room. I leant over the toilet bowl and heaved up the contents of my stomach. Healer White helped me hold my hair back, and I was extremely grateful to him.

"Thank you," I said, when I had finally gotten the gruesome image out of my mind.

He smiled grimly at me, and allowed me to lean against him weakly as he led me back into his office. He helped me gently onto the chair, then he walked over to his bookshelf and stared contemplatively at his files.

"Miss Granger, tell me a little bit more about yourself. Your family, your hobbies, anything."

I was shocked. None of the other healers I had gone to had asked me about my personal life. They had all jumped straight into the issue and started drilling me with questions about my condition. Healer White was strange. He did things other healers did not do. He behaved differently. I was immediately defensive about him prying into my life.

"With all due respect, Healer White, why do you want to know about me?"

The healer sighed and sat down in front of me, placing his interlocked hands on the table.

"Firstly, Miss Granger—"

I interrupted him.

"Hermione. Call me Hermione please."

"Alright, Hermione," he said slowly, as if testing my name out. "Firstly, call me Nile, please. Secondly, I don't know much about yourself, or any of my other patients for that matter. I always thought I did, but I realize that I—I mean the tabloids were wrong. I hope to understand my patients before I look into their conditions. Frankly, I find it much more productive than asking you to describe your troubles, like I'm sure all your previous healers have done. So please humor me and tell me about your life."

I looked at him strangely. I caught his slip which he tried to cover. Maybe he was a Durmstrang student who had come to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament and seen me then. I didn't dwell into it much.

"Okay. I am Hermione Granger, muggle-born. I studied in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I was in Gryffindor House. My closest friends were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. My worst enemy was Draco Malfoy and his group of goons. My favourite subject was Transfiguration and I had a cat named Crookshanks. In first year Harry, Ron and I suspected Snape of wanting to steal the Philosopher's Stone so we snuck past the defences to save it, but it turned out to be Voldemort sharing a body with Quirrell. In second year I brewed the polyjuice potion to try to wheedle information out of Malfoy about the chamber, but I turned into Millicent Bulstrode's cat. In third year, I…"

Nile held up his hand and stopped me abruptly in my sentence.

"Now Mis—Hermione, how do you feel?"

"I feel…happy?"

I was surprised at my own response. I hadn't realized, but going through my own experiences and speaking about them made me remember all my happy memories about my friends, and the adventures we had together.

"Good, good," he said, jotting some things onto my file. He was using a pen. A muggle invention. A pen. I stared at him, completely shocked. He used business cards, but now this as well?

"Alright, now tell me more about yourself. Your favourites, what you do, your relationships etc."

I hesitated for a bit, but continued. Nile felt like someone I could trust.

"My favourite colour is actually blue, as opposed to what other people actually think. I love reading, doing sports, and drawing. I used to date Ron, but I broke up with him a while ago. I don't do anything for a living right now."

He stared at me evenly.

"And why not Hermione?"

"I…I'm afraid. I see horrifying things whenever something reminds me of my nightmares. It's just too much to bear, so I stay at home and try to wait for these nightmares to pass."

"How frequent are they now?"

"They appear every night, every time I fall asleep."

"Have you tried keeping them away? Has anything helped?"

"Nothing works, except for Dreamless Sleep Draught. Harry and Ron bring it to me every 2 weeks, to prevent me from getting addicted."

Nile closed my file with a snap. With a jolt, I realized that our session had ended, but I had not felt uncomfortable at all, unlike my previous appointments with other healers.

"Alright Hermione, this concludes our first session. I would like you to write up a list of all the people you've seen in your nightmares, and their connection to you. Additionally, I want you to start drawing. Anything that you want, but don't erase any mistakes. Bring your drawings to me next time we meet. Would you be up for another session with me next week at the same time?"

I nodded blankly.

"Excellent. It was a pleasure meeting you Hermione, I'll see you next week here. I assure you the spectacle with my secretary will not be repeated next week."

Still in slight shock, I nodded to him and walked out of his office, took the lift down to the bottom floor, walked out of the building, apparated back to the apartment all in a daze. He wanted me to draw, and write. This was a first. Every other healer made my condition seem hopeless. They told me to record down my nightmares and every thing that happens. They force me to see the people in my nightmares, hoping confrontation might make them go away. It hasn't worked.

Nile was different. I was sure of it. Whether his methods are effective, I will have to wait and see. Walking back to my room, I brought out my sketchbook and a pencil. Sitting down next to my windowsill, I looked outside and sketched the first thing that came to my mind. A drooping willow tree. It looked wrong, too dreary somehow, but I left it there, as per Nile's instructions. I flipped to another fresh page, and began to draw again. It never occurred to me that for once in a few months, I was now dwelling on my nightmares.

_Draco Malfoy_

The first session had gone surprisingly well, at least that was what I thought. Hermione was a lot more responsive than I originally suspected, and although she seemed to be suspicious at the start, she opened up a lot to me, much more than I thought she would. I ran a hand through my hair as I finished jotting down notes and observations into her file. She was obviously in worse condition than any of my other patients, but she wasn't incurable.

I had originally planned on telling her my true identity in a few sessions, but the way she had spoken about me being her enemy hurt, a lot. She needed to let go of her hatred and her negative feelings towards anyone if she was to get better. She needed to start looking towards the bright side and putting down all the stress she's had since the war. I couldn't blame her. She was a muggle-born, and was at an extremely high risk of getting captured and tortured during the war. This was self-defense, but the war was over now, and she needed to know that she was safe.

I could read her shock when I told her to draw. I asked all of my patients to draw after every single session with me. This therapy has proved to be effective. I could analyze the drawings that they brought back the next session and this would give me more information about how they were really feeling, and if anything could be done to speed up the process of their recovery. Dean Thomas had drawn a very disturbing picture on his first session. It had been a dark raven with blood red eyes standing upon a dead tree amongst dry cracked grounds. I knew immediately that he was haunted strongly by death and hopelessness. My advice had been for him to visit all his friends and start spending time with them.

I knew from my past that he was talented in art, so I had him paint a portrait of his friends for me. Then I told him to draw a picture of his enemies for me, and of course I was at the centre of that masterpiece. Later, I asked him what he would do if Draco Malfoy apologized to him, and he told me that he would likely curse him in the face and sock him in the gut. I tore up that picture, and lit them on fire with my wand. I told him to go home and draw a picture of all the people he would never forgive.

The next session I looked at his picture. The only person on that painting was a very realistic looking Voldemort. I asked him why he couldn't forgive Voldemort. He told me it was because he had caused so much misery, and pain to all his loved ones. Then I asked him why Draco Malfoy wasn't on that picture. He told me it was because everyone working under Voldemort was manipulated somehow, maybe because of a bad childhood or due to wrong choices. It made sense. I asked him more about his nightmares, and he told me that they were getting less frequent whenever he draws all his resentment and feelings out. I ended the session with a question. I asked him, so why is Draco Malfoy your enemy if you would forgive him?

He couldn't answer me. The next time we saw each other, he gave me a response. He said he didn't know, and that he had simply let the past get the better of him. I calmly took out my wand and took off my glamour. To say that Dean Thomas was shocked would have been an understatement. He said a few curse words that would have made even Marcus Flint blush. He stormed out, but I wasn't fazed. Anger was a huge part of post-traumatic stress disorder, but I knew this would be the turning point. I was right. He came back the next time apologizing for his rude behaviour, and also said that he forgave me.

I told him that everything that I had done was in the past. There was nothing I could do to undo all the things that I regretted. Slowly, I brought him to visit all the people he held a grudge against. I brought him to the graves of all the people that he held a grudge against, including Snape, and lastly I told him to visit Potter. He was so surprised. I realized through our sessions that he never completely forgave Potter for taking Ginny away from him, and I made him finally put down all his grudges. He told me that he felt a lot better. Many nightmares of the people he disliked taunting and chasing him disappeared. Our sessions ended soon after that. He still had the occasional nightmare, but it was nothing too bad for him to handle.

We continued to contact each other after the end of the therapy sessions. We still go out for coffee sometimes, and he is careful to call me by my new name. Dean, I had to admit, was one of the better cases. He was quick to accept my identity and my apology, unlike the fiery Mrs Potter, who ranted and raved and tried hexing me for a whole session. She was personally dragged to my office by Potter, and apologized during the next session. I told her a lot about my personal life, and slowly she started to open up to me when she realized I didn't have a field day when I became a Death Eater.

I just prayed that the sessions with Hermione would work well, but she was complicated. It was hard to get her to open up. I was afraid of telling her my true identity. It could either work very well and she could forgive me wholeheartedly, or it could go the other way and she could hate me for life. I was really afraid of her. She seemed so fragile today when I saw her getting harassed by all those reporters. I think my therapy sessions might include having her go back to Hogwarts to teach as a Transfiguration professor, with me by her side of course. She needed to confront her fears of the school and the surrounding area. Maybe if she got a lot better, I would bring her back to the Manor, after I have told her my true identity of course, and I could have her meet my parents.

I just wished it was this easy.


End file.
